


In Circles

by Claranon



Series: The Princess and the Knight [3]
Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: A hint of plot? In MY fic series? It's more likely than you think, F/M, Flashbacks, Hendrik Suffers 2019, Jade does not much like learning princess things, Jade likes hitting things, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 14:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17286131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claranon/pseuds/Claranon
Summary: Jade can't walk two feet in Heliodor without tripping over mention of Sir Hendrik, Mightiest Knight in All Erdrea. It's starting to become a problem.





	In Circles

**Author's Note:**

> I promise there's an endgame in mind, it just...might take a little while to get there.
> 
> (Credit to the lovely [Flutiebear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flutiebear/) for the "Hendrik Suffers 2019" tag! May he continue to do so all throughout the year.)

Sir Hendrik was _everywhere_ in Heliodor.

Or at least that’s what it seemed like to Jade. She’d heard tales of his exploits over the years, of course, in the various towns she and Rab had visited; but it was nothing like being back home and realizing just how few steps she ever had to take before tripping over a reminder that _Here Lives Hendrik, Mightiest Knight in All Erdrea_.

She saw him on the parade ground, barking orders at the newest recruits. He was in the stables, questioning the groom closely about Obsidian’s care. Much of his day was spent at her father’s side, naturally, as the king’s right-hand man, and he had oversight over both military matters as well as holding a seat on the royal council. Jade couldn’t stroll through the bustling city without overhearing mentions of him on a street corner, in a pub, at the marketplace. She’d even grabbed a random book off the shelf once, only to find—to her utter lack of surprise—a detailed accounting of the life of Heliodor’s finest commander.

Sir Hendrik was everywhere, and it wasn’t a problem, really—up until the point when...well, it rather _was_.

 

* * *

 

“But surely a _single_ section of troops would not encumber you excessively,” King Carnelian protested, looking at his daughter imploringly.

Jade stifled a sigh and put down her fork. She normally enjoyed these breakfasts on the terrace with her father, but her upcoming trip to Sniflheim had become the source of some tension between them—namely, their disagreement over how many soldiers it was appropriate for the Princess of Heliodor to be escorted by. They’d been arguing the entire meal and had yet to find a suitable compromise between _her_ preference (none) and _his_ (an entire company).

“I’ve travelled the route many times over, Father,” she tried again, despite its lack of success the first three times.

“ _Before_ you were well-known as a princess and one of the saviours of the world,” he reminded her—also for the third time.

“Yes, Father,” she said, “most of whom I’ll be _with_ throughout the trip. I hardly think a few boat rides by myself are a huge risk.”

Her father was about to reply when his valet entered and whispered something in his ear. Jade idly stirred her mostly-full cup of tea; she’d never developed a taste for the stuff, despite Rab’s fondness.

“Very well,” said Carnelian to the valet. “Tell her I will come directly.” The man nodded and left the room.

The king turned back to his daughter. “Dearest, I have some business to take care of. Shall we continue this discussion later?”

“Of course. Have a good morning, Father.” Jade rose from her seat to peck him on the cheek and didn’t bother sitting back down once he’d gone. There wasn’t much reason to linger on breakfast anyway; she’d rather lost her appetite somewhere around the point he’d mentioned her occasional _seasickness_ as justification for an armed escort.

She wandered back down to her room instead, intent on catching up on correspondence that morning. The letter to Queen Frysabel would have to wait until she knew how many soldiers her father would eventually convince her to bring, but Erik had been pestering her for details on her trip for some time now.

_Don’t tell Mia I said this,_ he’d written, _but she’s crazy about you. Wants to know when ‘the princess who kicked my brother in the face’ is coming to visit. Figure it out so I can get her off my back, okay?_

Jade paused when she reached the stairs. A cluster of soldiers was gathered around one of the East Wing windows, chattering excitedly. She changed course and walked over to see what they were looking at, but it was impossible to get a glimpse through the throng.

One of the soldiers spotted her and jerked back. “P-Princess Jade!” That got the attention of the rest of them and they all pulled away from the window and snapped salutes of varying crispness.

“Good morning,” she said, wishing they’d been trained just a little less diligently. There was a frozen moment before she belatedly added: “Er, at ease.” Jade wasn’t even sure she was technically _part_ of the formal military hierarchy, but convincing the troops of that was another matter entirely.

The soldiers relaxed their postures. “May we help you, Yer Highness?” asked a young woman with a strong Downtown accent. Oh yes, _definitely_ well-trained, and she had a very good idea as to who she could blame this one on.

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” Jade apologized, “I was just wondering what you were all looking at.” The way to the window was clear now and she approached before getting an answer, looking down to see an excellent overview of the parade ground and...oh. Of course.

“Sir Hendrik’s workin’ on horsemanship with the new officers, Highness,” the female soldier explained. “It’s always a treat to watch.”

“To have a horse as magnificent as Obsidian,” another soldier shook his head enviously.

“Or a rider as magnificent as the commander,” Jade heard someone whisper behind her, followed by several high-pitched giggles.

“Shush!” one of older-looking boys hissed, glaring into the group. He turned back to Jade. “It’s nothing important, Princess. Did you need us for something?”

“No,” she said vaguely, waving a hand toward the window. “Carry on.” A second flurry of salutes as she turned away, ready to resume her trip downstairs; but not before she sneaked another glance at the parade ground and the tall man astride his horse at the centre of it.

 

* * *

 

_Rab had been loitering in Octagonia for a week now and Jade was tired of the place. She didn’t understand how the townspeople could bear to live like this, never seeing sunlight, never feeling grass under their feet—but then, sixteen wasn’t a good age for understanding different points of view in general. The only bright spot she had to look forward to was that Rab had promised her they could stay and watch the tournament after his business was finished._

_“It’ll be good for yer training, seeing the best in the world at work,” he’d said; but after a week of utter boredom, Jade honestly just wanted to watch people beat the stuffing out of each other. The princess had learned to enjoy the simpler things in life these past eight years._

_She’d just decided on leaving the inn to scope out the latest entrants at the sign-up desk when the old man burst into their room._

_“Jade! Get yer things, lass, quick sharp! We need to go!” Rab already had his pack open and was tossing in clothing haphazardly._

_“What is it?” Jade asked, scrambling up from her bed. She was no stranger to these fast escapes, but Rab seemed especially rattled this time._

_“A delegation from Heliodor’s arrived to enter the tournament—headed by none other than Sir Hendrik himself! He cannae see us or it’ll get back to yer father for sure. Hurry, lass!” The old man made an impatient gesture at her and this time Jade obeyed without further questions._

_Five minutes later they were sneaking out of the inn, Rab furtively peering through the doorway before motioning her through. Jade crept out the door and pulled back to the shadows. The Heliodorian delegation was not twenty feet away, comprising about a dozen soldiers standing at the crisp attention she remembered. She craned her neck slightly, trying to see through the group, but there were too many people around to get a clear view. Rab joined her and they waited breathlessly for a break in the crowd so they could slip through without drawing attention._

_“Now! Come on, lass!” The old man scurried onto the bridge with that bemusing quickness of his, but Jade hesitated. There was a gap in the throng of people at the sign-up desk now, and she caught of glimpse of black, gold-embellished armour and long purple hair._

_Several flashes at once: a boyish smile and a friendly wave when she caught his attention during training; a comforting arm around her after the latest scolding from her father; a hand holding out her favourite kind of cupcake, doubtless swiped from the kitchens; still-broadening shoulders offered up as a seat so she could see a parade over the crowd._

_If she just **tried**_ , _then surely—surely he would—_

_“Jade!” Rab’s voice snapped the moment in half. She turned and followed him without another look back._

 

* * *

 

Jade had always loved the castle kitchens: the warmth, the bustle, the smells, the boisterous chatter. Heliodor truly felt like _home_ there, and after her return she'd found herself spending a lot of her idle time amid the controlled chaos.

Far from minding their future mistress getting underfoot, the cooks welcomed her with open arms. She was plied with enough sweets to feed an army of children and her instruction in the culinary arts resumed as if she’d never left.

That afternoon, Princess Jade had taken a break from studying royal protocol to face up against her greatest challenge yet: beef stew.

“Are you done with the carrots yet, milady?” the head cook asked as she passed by, lugging a giant pot to the sinks. It was past the lunch period and the mealtime tumult had died down to a quiet sort of contentment _—_ which was to say, it was often at least _two_ minutes between someone dropping a pan with a clatter or shouting across the kitchens for help.

“No.” Jade replied, frowning down at the cutting board. She could shred through a manticore’s defenses with her claws in ten seconds flat, but somehow proper vegetable-chopping technique eluded her.

“Remember to use your wrist,” piped up one of the assistant cooks nearby. “You’ll want to rock up and down as you go.”

“No, you fool,” scoffed a cook from the other direction. “She wants to keep her wrist _steady_ to control the blade.”

The two cooks immediately launched into a loud argument, which opened the floodgates for half the kitchen to join in, offering conflicting—and mostly confusing—advice to further their princess’s education.

Jade smiled to herself amid the commotion. Truth be told, she was still far more comfortable spending time with the castle servants than the nobility; years of hard travelling and trading favours with the working class for food and shelter had prepared her for little else. Her father kept encouraging her to pick proper ladies-in-waiting from the bevy of eager candidates, but she insisted that her maids were more than sufficient. It was one of those disagreements they kept coming back to, much like—

“Excuse me.”

A hush fell over the kitchen as everyone looked up— _far_ up—at the new arrival. Sir Hendrik was standing just inside the doorway, looking mildly discomfited with the sudden shift of attention toward him. He was wearing his armour rather than his day-to-day outfit and Jade wondered how she hadn’t heard him clinking in.

Hendrik cleared his throat and bowed to Jade. “Your Highness. His Majesty requests your attendance in the audience chamber for the next appointment.”

“Oh, right.” She’d completely forgotten the time in the midst of all the dicing and chopping. Some official from somewhere—she wanted to say Gondolia—was meeting with her father and he’d asked her yesterday to sit in. _Continuing your education in the diplomatic sphere_ , he’d called it. Probably a bit more complicated than beef stew; probably not nearly as much fun.

“I need to clean up and get changed,” she told Hendrik. “Please let him know I’m coming.”

“Of course, Princess. I will inform him as to your delay.” Hendrik bowed again and turned to leave—putting him directly in the path of a scullery girl carrying a truly harrowing stack of silver platters in from the banquet hall.

The resounding crash of trays meeting steel armour then stone floor was tremendous; Jade nearly clapped her hands over her ears like a child. The reverberations continued even after all the platters had scattered onto the floor, and the entire kitchen was stunned into inaction. The girl looked up at Hendrik in absolute terror, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Hendrik quickly recovered, soldier’s instincts rallying. “My deepest apologies,” he said to the scullery girl, immediately bending down to the floor and starting to gather up trays. “You are unhurt?”

She was still staring at him, frozen in place, her face progressively getting redder. “N-no, sir. I mean—yes, sir. I’m not—it’s—I’m fine, sir.”

“Good.” Hendrik grabbed the last tray and handed the stack back to her. “Here.”

The girl took the platters almost in a daze. “Th-thank you, sir.”

The knight gave her a nod and stood up again in a creak of steel and leather. He turned to Jade once more, touched his fist to his heart, and then swiftly left the kitchens. The whole room stared after him.

“Well, I’m pretty sure we’ve all got things that need doing, so back to work!” the head cook called out. The bustle immediately resumed—excepting the scullery girl, who was still looking through the doorway after Hendrik and blushing hotly.

“Marle!” the head cook snapped and the girl jumped, stammering out an apology and scurrying off to the sinks.

Laughter erupted around Jade. She turned to the assistant cooks and saw them all exchanging knowing glances.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Another one hit by the Sir Hendrik Curse,” an older woman replied, shaking her head with a chuckle. “It never fails.”

“The Sir Hendrik...what?” Jade was supposed to be washing up and rushing off to her room to change and prepare for the meeting; she was _supposed_ to be, but wild bunicorns couldn’t have dragged her away from _this_ conversation.

“Every new serving girl or maid who comes to work at the castle winds up falling madly in love with Sir Hendrik within two weeks,” explained another cook, gesturing with his ladle toward the doorway where the knight had been.

“And not a few of the men, too,” the girl next to Jade muttered under her breath.

“They get over it eventually,” the first woman continued, “but it’s worth our livelihoods to have him pop down here when they’re still in the thick of it. Pots, knives, even a whole roast hit the floor once—the head cook nearly tanned that girl’s hide.”

“I...had no idea,” Jade said, absolutely fascinated by this information. She'd have to think of a way she might use it against him the next time he decided to disapprove of her un-princess-like behaviour.

“It used to happen to Sir Jasper too, rest his soul, but he was always a cold one. Never had time for the servants the way Sir Hendrik does.” The woman shook her head again. “A brave, handsome knight, hero of the kingdom, and all that gallantry and politeness, too—well, _you_ know, milady.”

Jade did know. Fearlessly protective, unfailingly courteous, almost annoyingly attentive—and, yes, fairly easy on the eyes. She’d already seen countless instances of women in _other_ towns falling all over themselves for Hendrik. What difference did it make if it were happening here too?

There was no difference. Absolutely none at all.

 

* * *

 

_The training dummy had likely borne the brunt of a lot of bad days over the years, but tonight Jade was determined to give them all a run for their money._

_**Kick**_ — _that haughty councillor covering his laughter when she’d mixed up tax terms at the morning meeting—_

_**Thrust**_ — _the smug smiles of the Larimar daughters after she realized she’d completely underdressed for lunch, something she hadn’t even known you **could** underdress for—_

_**Slash** —that absolutely ridiculous letter, which she knew she’d have to answer because if she didn’t he might send one to her_  _ **father**_ _next and then she’d really be—_

_Jade fell back, panting and dripping with sweat. Perhaps the claws had been a poor idea; the dummy had popped several stitches and was leaking stuffing in a grotesque caricature of a murder victim. She made a mental note to ask the steward where she could find an awl and waxed thread—it wasn’t likely to be the last time she’d need to make repairs, if more days like this were in her future._

_The cool night air was a blessing on her skin as she slipped off her claws and walked over to the nearby bench for her water flask. The private training ground, mainly reserved for officer use, was thankfully empty at this late hour; this was her first visit since her return a month ago and she hadn't known what to expect on that front. Jade didn’t mind sharing the larger one with the regular soldiers—it was a wonderful way to start learning names and faces—but they_ **_did_** _tend to gawk at the sight of their princess hacking away at wooden dummies with spear or claw, and gawking was the very last thing she needed right now._

_As if to deliberately contradict her thoughts, the door clicked open and she whirled around._

_“Princess Jade,” Hendrik said, surprised. It was clear he’d come here for training of his own: he had his sword in one gloved hand and pack in the other and was dressed in the light tunic and pants she knew he favoured on the practice field._

_“Hendrik. I didn’t know anyone else came here so late.” As soon as she said it she realized how foolish it was to assume that Hendrik didn’t spend **every**_ _spare minute he had honing his skills._

_“Would Your Highness prefer to be alone?” he asked immediately, already hefting his pack back up over his shoulder._

_“No,” Jade said quickly and saw him pause mid-turn. “No, don’t be ridiculous, there’s plenty of room.” She vaguely hoped she hadn’t just demolished his favourite training dummy. Hendrik seemed like the type to have a favourite._

_Hendrik studied her face for a moment and then nodded. The pack went down on the bench opposite hers but he kept his sword as he approached—blast it all—her recently-vacated dummy. He stopped short as soon as he saw the condition it was in._

_“Hm,” was his reaction. Rather than attempting a response, Jade decided to let the crickets field that one for a bit._

_Hendrik turned away from the training dummy. Rather than going to another one as she expected, he instead placed his sword on the bench and walked over to the racks of practice weapons against the far wall. She watched him thumb through a few of them before pulling out a large wooden sword and hefting it a couple times. The knight then returned to the centre of the room and faced her again._

_“Come, Princess.” He beckoned to her with his free hand._

_“What are you up to, Hendrik?” she asked, intrigued. Her instincts were already flaring as she joined him, telling her to lead with a surprise attack to catch him off-guard; she forcibly pushed them down for the sake of civilized politeness._

_“Offering a more challenging opponent,” he replied, hand flexing on the hilt of his wooden sword. His eyes darted over to the training dummy then back to her. “No claws,” he amended._

_“Worried I might make you into a pincushion?” Jade asked teasingly, a thrill going through her as she settled into her opening stance. She **knew**_ _she should have taken that chance for first attack—_

_“The hour grows rather late for casting spells, Your Highness.” Hendrik gave her a curt nod. “Begin.” And so she did, launching herself at him with a ferocious kick._

_Jade’s only experience fighting Hendrik had been their brief bout in Dundrasil, and she found herself quickly reassessing the advantage she’d then attributed to his being mounted. The past sixteen years of her life had been spent doing little else but training, but Hendrik had another dozen at least on top of that, as well as the benefit of multiple teachers and sparring partners. He parried her attacks with ease, sidestepped every attempt to sweep him off his feet, reacted to each move as if he’d known before she'd even made it; he was an implacable wall that she couldn’t figure out how to topple._

_She leapt back, breathing hard, and took a moment to regroup. He kept his sword raised and watched her carefully, waiting for her next attack._

_It was then it occurred to her that reacting was **all** Hendrik was doing: he had made no offensive moves of his own, merely countered each of hers. He was—he was letting her _ _**wear herself out** , she realized._

_Suddenly Jade was so angry she could hardly think straight. She charged at him before she’d even gotten her breath back._

_“Fight me, Hendrik!” she ordered through clenched teeth, trying to bust through his defenses with a flurry of kicks._

_“Princess—” His face was creased with concern as he skillfully deflected every hit. The worry she saw in his eyes only further fueled her temper._

_“Fight me!” Jade snapped again. She was too riled now to feint or distract—all she could do was attack, to face the challenge head-on, come what may._

_“Your Highness!” he called over the sound of her foot thwacking his sword again and again. “Perhaps it would be best if we—”_

_“No! Let me_ _**try** —” A thrust to his neck, countered just in time. “Let me **lose** —” Two glancing blows to his hip that made him grunt. “Let me fail in a way I _ **_know_** _I can recover from—” Shoulder, side, thigh; all blocked. “—learn from—” Stomach, forearm. “— **overcome**.” Every last ounce of her strength aimed straight at his chest._

_Hendrik parried her kick and twisted his sword, trapping her foot there. They stood staring at each other, panting. His hair fell in disarray around his face and she had a primal satisfaction in seeing that she’d at least made him sweat._

_“Princess...” he said again, but then closed his mouth. He worked his jaw for a moment before his face hardened and he nodded at her. “Very well. On your guard.” He let her foot drop and raised his sword. Jade felt a surge of triumph, and a fresh rush of adrenaline coursed through her as she fell back into her stance._

_He waited only a moment before coming at her, and it was **then** that Jade truly realized how Sir Hendrik had earned his staggering reputation. Every inch of him was built of muscle and sinew, honed to perfection, and he used his sword not so much as a weapon but an extension of his own arm. She’d never had much time on the battlefield to pay attention to his technique; but now, as his sole target, she fully understood the terror his opponents must feel in facing such a foe._

_She immediately found herself on the defensive, barely able to block his attacks, let alone make any of her own, and he quickly used his bulk to crowd her to the edge of the sparring ring. Jade ducked under his arm and twisted behind him, trying to reclaim ground, but he whirled to meet her and continued his advance. What he lacked in agility he more than made up for with sheer power, and she knew she stood no real chance. She was grateful, though, even as found herself retreating further to the edge of the courtyard. He was giving no quarter and asking for none, and it was exactly what she needed at that moment._

_A failed feint to slip around him again exposed a weakness, mercilessly exploited; before she knew it, Hendrik had her up against the wall, one hand on her hip and wooden sword to her throat._

_“Yield, Princess,” he ground out, fierce gaze inches from her own. Jade’s heart pounded in her ears and she struggled to catch her breath. The barest hint of some enticing scent came to her, and she longed to crane her neck to find its source. She could still dimly hear crickets in the background, but everything in her field of view was blocked by the knight’s enormous body._

_Hendrik seemed to come back to himself all of a sudden. He dropped his sword from her neck and his other hand jumped off her hip as though burned. “Y-Your Highness,” he stammered, panicked eyes searching her all over. “Are you—are you hurt?”_

_“I’m fine,” Jade reassured him. She absently rubbed what would doubtless become a spectacular bruise on her arm, and somehow felt better than she had all day._

_He withdrew to give her space and she walked over to the bench on somewhat shaky legs. She took a long drink of water and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, watching while he returned the sword to the weapon rack. He came back after, joining her on the bench a few feet away._

_“An excellent effort, Princess,” Hendrik ventured after a pause._

_She snorted. “It was awful.” She saw him about to protest and held up a hand. “It **was**. What did I do wrong?”_

_Another hesitation. “Your speed is your greatest strength,” he explained with a hint of what she'd long ago dubbed his 'lecture voice'. “You gave up too much control over the flow of battle. Redirect your opponent at all costs before he corners you.”_

_Jade thought about that. “I see your point,” she agreed. “Next time it happens I’ll try doing a quick Puff-Puff for distraction.”_

_She watched with interest at what she strongly suspected was the sight of someone choking on his own tongue._

_After clearing his throat—several times—Hendrik gave her a sideways glance before looking up at the stars. “I pray you will not find me out of bounds, Your Highness, in saying that it has been but a month since your return. There is much to learn, and you should be kind to yourself.”_

_Jade pulled her legs up onto the bench in front of her, amusement fading away. “I know,” she said quietly. “It’s just—some days—” She sighed. “Some days I’d rather be facing down a horde of monsters than what I have to deal with here.”_

_“I can well understand the feeling, Princess.” She tilted her head to look at him and he was smiling slightly. “I think it not unlikely we will meet again in these circumstances, then, if you ever wish for a rematch.”_

_“I’d like nothing better,” she said, cracking her knuckles and raising her eyebrows at him challengingly. The day truly_ **_had_** _turned around dramatically right at the end._

_Jade packed up her belongings as he fetched his sword and prepared for his own training, frowning at the dummy she’d eviscerated before choosing one of the others. She underlined her mental note to find the steward first thing in the morning to ask for those supplies._

_Ready at last—and quite prepared to collapse into bed—she exchanged nods with Hendrik before turning to leave._

_“Princess! A moment,” the knight called suddenly. He walked over to the bench and picked something up from the ground. She recognized it immediately and her heart sank._

_“This fell from your pack,” Hendrik said, holding out the letter for her. Then he frowned down at it. “That is...the royal seal of Gallopolis, is it not?”_

_Jade gingerly picked it up between two fingers, as if to avoid contamination. “Yes. It’s—from Prince Faris, actually.”_

_“Oh?” Hendrik’s voice was carefully neutral. She knew the knight was determined, as a rule, never to be accused of showing disapproval for royalty—no matter his actual opinion._

_She could have left it at that and he would never have pressed, but tonight she felt that an absurdity of this magnitude had to be shared with **someone** , and Hendrik had always been a reliable sort of confidante back in the old days._

_“He congratulated me on my recent return to royal life,” Jade said, not a little eager now for a reaction, “and...proposed marriage, once he reaches a suitable age.”_

_Hendrik’s eyebrows shot up comically. “He wishes...a betrothal?”_

_“He seems to see a lot of advantages to the possibility. He spent enough words talking about it, at any rate.” The princess’s eyes narrowed mischievously. “Should I do it, do you think?”_

_Hendrik pursed his lips and grew thoughtful, and for a moment she was actually afraid he was seriously considering the matter. “I would write back,” he said slowly, “and inform His Highness that you only accept offers of marriage from those who first prove themselves capable of defeating you in a duel.”_

_Jade couldn’t help the laughter that spilled out of her. “I’ll never hear from him again if I send that,” she said with a sly smile._

_“And a true shame that would be, Your Highness.” His usual sternness had softened into something warm and familiar. She could see a bit of the young knight in him then, the one who’d shared in her pranks and always taken the blame on himself when he could._

_“Well, I’ll figure it out.” She stuffed the letter back in her pack, as far down as it would go. “But_ _**please** don’t tell my father about this.”_

_“I would never dream of such a thing, Princess,” Hendrik assured her, and she knew he wouldn’t._

_She paused at the doorway before she left. He was at the training dummy again, warming up with quick thrusts and feints of his sword. “Hendrik!” she called out._

_He turned toward her obligingly. “Yes, Princess?”_

_“I’d watch out next time,” Jade said with a smirk, hand on her hip. “I’ve still got a few tricks you haven’t seen yet.”_

_“I look forward to it,” Hendrik replied, hand to his heart._

 

* * *

 

Jade let out a huff and pulled at her shirt several times, trying to air out her chest a bit as she walked through the castle. She’d foregone her usual halter and skirt in the lingering heat, but it didn’t seem to be making much of a difference. She could only hope one of her maids had opened the windows in her room to let a breeze in after the sun had set.

Most of the servants were at their evening duties but a few dotted the halls, popping quick curtseys or bows as she passed. The genuflections—like the salutes—still made her a little uncomfortable, but Jade had mostly gotten used to it these past few months. Easier to do that than convince an entire castle’s worth of scandalized servants _not_ to follow protocol.

The downstairs hallway was unusually empty when she arrived at Hendrik’s room, though she could hear distant noise coming from the kitchens. Perhaps there would be time to sneak a pastry later, she decided as she knocked sharply on the door.

“Enter,” came a muffled voice, and she did.

She opened her mouth to say...something she could no longer remember, when faced with the sight of Sir Hendrik before her: stripped to the waist, not six feet away, his muscled back rippling as he splashed water over his face from a basin.

Jade wasn’t an easily-flustered person—and, indeed, made endless fun of the fact that Hendrik _was_ —but she was positively tongue-tied here. The general warmth of the castle was altogether stifling now, and she was distinctly aware of renewed beads of sweat travelling down between her breasts.

It was Hendrik who broke the silence by half-turning and finally noticing her presence. “Princess!” He scrambled to grab a shirt lying nearby and pulled it over his head—though not before she got an excellent look at his dripping chest, adorned with gleaming medallion.

“My deepest apologies, Your Highness,” he said, picking up a towel next and wiping off his face and neck. It didn’t get rid of the flush creeping along the latter, she noted distantly. “I—I had expected the Captain of the Guard.”

“No, I’m sorry, I should have—said something,” she apologized in a miraculously normal voice, though she was fairly sure she’d been completely incapable of speech only moments ago.

“Nevertheless,” he started, then didn’t appear to know how to finish the sentence. They stood there staring at each other.

Jade watched a droplet of water run from Hendrik’s neck down to his collarbone, finally disappearing beneath his shirt; she felt more than a little lightheaded. Where had all her worldly assurance gone? Why wasn’t she taking outrageous advantage of this, teasing him within an inch of his life? What was _wrong_ with her?

Mortified chagrin was apparently useful for kicking her brain back into gear. “I...wanted to ask when the expedition to the Kingsbarrow was planned,” she said heroically, again marvelling at her own steadiness from a distance.

“Ah.” Hendrik rubbed at the back of his neck, still red. “Most likely after your return from Sniflheim, Princess.”

“Good,” she nodded, firm and confident. Definitely those. “I’d like to come. With you, I mean. And—the troops.” The benefits of a tactical retreat were looming larger and larger in her mind.

“Of course, Your Highness,” he said, a little too quickly. “Was there anything else you required?”

“No, that was it. So I’ll just—” she made a vague gesture toward the door “—go now.”

“Very well, Princess.” Hendrik leaned over in a bow; the neck of his shirt gaped open, giving her another eyeful of still-dripping chest. Jade deliberately tore her gaze away and left the room with as much royal dignity as she could muster.

If there were any justice in the world, the stones of the wall beside Hendrik’s room would have cooled her hot brow as she pressed against them and closed her eyes. Alas, even masonry was set on betraying her today. She dimly wondered if the kitchens had entirely run out of pastries, too.

“Princess Jade?” a voice came from beside her and she jerked up. It was the Captain of the Guard, eyeing her curiously.

“Captain,” she acknowledged with resignation. “I was just...headed to the kitchens.”

“Very good, my Lady,” he said. “If you’ll excuse me—” He turned to Hendrik’s door and Jade decided it was well time she’d moved to another section of the castle entirely. Preferably one as far away—and as cold—as possible, where she could recover from whatever heat-induced insanity had come over her.

 

* * *

 

_“What are you reading?”_

_Hendrik’s head snapped up at her quiet question; he clearly hadn’t heard her approach. Even renowned knights of the realm let their guard down in the presence of holy statues, it seemed._

_Jade sat down on the other side of the campfire, tucking her legs underneath her. She tilted her head at him and waited for an answer._

_“A biography,” Hendrik replied after a moment. “Of Drustan, and the founding of Zwaardsrust.” He took out a slip of paper from the back and marked his place, closing the book and setting it aside._

_“Hm,” Jade hummed. She looked up at the stars, difficult to see through the inky clouds covering the night sky; the roiling wound of Calasmos was, unfortunately, much harder to miss._

_“I remember that one,” she said suddenly. “My father gave it to you one birthday, didn’t he?”_

_“Yes,” Hendrik replied, staring into the fire. “I...perhaps did not appreciate it as well as I should have, back then.”_

_“It’s hard to compete with adventure stories for a young knight-in-training.” She smiled a little wistfully. It was strange how easily the old memories came back now that Hendrik was with them. Or perhaps not so strange—he_ **_was_ ** _her strongest link to those days aside from her father, after all._

_“Can you not sleep, Princess?” he interrupted her thoughts._

_“Not really,” she sighed. “You’d think I’d have gotten used to Rab’s snoring by now, but…”_

_“Lord Robert can reach an impressive volume for a man his age,” Hendrik agreed._

_Jade hummed again but didn’t respond. She wasn’t even sure why she’d come out here rather than staying in the tent and trying to fall back asleep, especially when things still felt...awkward between her and the knight._

_Apparently determined to make it even **more** so, Hendrik cleared his throat. “Princess…” he began resolutely. “I have been meaning to speak to you about...my behaviour, at Dundrasil, and afterward.” He was looking fixedly into the fire, avoiding her gaze. “It was...unforgivable…”_

_“Hendrik—” she tried, somehow knowing what he was going to say and equally knowing he didn’t need to say it, but he shook his head._

_“I do not ask for forgiveness,” he continued. “I ask only that you understand that all I did, I did that the Lord of Shadows might be defeated. My mistakes were my own, and I pledge to spend the remainder of my life in your service, and that of the Luminary’s, to atone for them.”_

_He was the very picture of noble suffering personified. She could have laughed if he weren’t so serious about it. Although—perhaps it might even be best if—_

_“What kind of way to have a conversation is that, Henny-Wenny?” Jade asked in mock-offense. She leaned over and lowered her voice threateningly. “Less of the knightly nonsense, or I’ll have to spank you.”_

_His head jerked up for a second time, startled, and she saw that her teasing had at least had the intended effect of knocking away some of his dour remorse._

_“Princess…” the knight said uncertainly._

_“Oh, I’m only joking,” she chuckled. She shifted her legs into a more comfortable position; her smile dimmed and her voice grew more serious. “But when all this is over...he doesn't need_ _**service** , Hendrik, and neither do I.”_

_Jade looked over to find him watching her intently. “What we need—what I’ll **definitely** need when we go back to Heliodor—isn’t a commander of armies or an unswerving knight. Just...a friend. Someone I can count on.” She leaned toward Hendrik again and held out a hand. “What do you say?”_

_He stared at her hand for a moment before hesitantly taking it. She marvelled at how dwarfed hers was by his large, gloved one._

_“I shall...endeavour to assist you to the fullest extent of my abilities,” he finally responded. He attempted a bow while still holding her hand, to comical effect. The princess huffed another laugh and pulled back._

_“It’s a start, I suppose,” she said, smiling at him. “Thanks for always being there, Hendrik. I mean that.”_

_“Always, Your Highness.” His next bow was more successful, and she managed **not** to make fun of him for it. At least—not very much._

 

* * *

 

Jade dreamed that night, haunting, half-familiar visions.

She was another person—another _her—_ but...bolder somehow, more sure of herself. A _her_ that took whatever she wanted, when she wanted it; a _her_ that knew exactly what to do when a man looked at her the way _he_ did; a _her_ that teased and tempted but didn’t pull back at the last second, suddenly uncertain of what the next step was supposed to be; a _her_ that wasn’t afraid of how everything might change if she _did_ take that step.

A _her_ that didn’t have to wake alone in her bed, hot and aching from desires she could hardly begin to understand, let alone fulfill.

She groaned and rolled over, slipping a hand between her legs. This, at least, she could do, whatever version of _her_ she might be; and when she came soon after, shuddering and gasping into her pillow, her thoughts were only of _him_.

 

* * *

 

Sir Hendrik was everywhere in Heliodor, but it wasn’t a problem—because Jade would very soon be as far away as _possible_ from there, and long enough for a much-needed breather, too.

The princess responded to her father’s summons the next morning, determined to find a compromise for their argument. She could probably live with _three_ soldiers as an escort, she decided as she opened the door to the audience chambers. Four, if he really insisted.

As it happened, however, the king’s compromise had already arrived before her, and turned with a bow when she entered.

“Jade!” her father said happily, rising from his seat and striding over to her frozen position. He took her hand and gently tugged her further into the room.

“I had the most wonderful idea,” he continued, his bushy beard emphasizing every enthusiastic word. “A perfect solution to the problem of your escort. Sir Hendrik has generously agreed to accompany you on your trip. Surely you can have no objection to _that_ , my dear?”

Jade looked up at Hendrik; the knight’s face was unreadable.

“No,” she said, a bit distantly. “None at all.”


End file.
